


The Only Harmless Great Thing

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Romance, poetryfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-31
Updated: 2005-10-31
Packaged: 2017-11-02 07:43:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten double-drabbles, each a vignette from the schoolyear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only Harmless Great Thing

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from John Donne: "Nature's great masterpiece, an elephant - the only harmless great thing." The epigraph is "The Elephant Is Slow to Mate" by D.H. Lawrence.

> The elephant, the huge old beast,  
>  is slow to mate;  
>  he finds a female, they show no haste  
>  they wait
> 
> for the sympathy in their vast shy hearts  
>  slowly, slowly to rouse  
>  as they loiter along the river-beds  
>  and drink and browse
> 
> and dash in panic through the brake  
>  of forest with the herd,  
>  and sleep in massive silence, and wake  
>  together, without a word.
> 
> So slowly the great hot elephant hearts  
>  grow full of desire,  
>  and the great beasts mate in secret at last,  
>  hiding their fire.
> 
> Oldest they are and the wisest of beasts  
>  so they know at last  
>  how to wait for the loneliest of feasts  
>  for the full repast.
> 
> They do not snatch, they do not tear;  
>  their massive blood  
>  moves as the moon-tides, near, more near  
>  till they touch in flood.  
> 

**SEPTEMBER**

Children flooded the Great Hall with noise. Snape glowered at them from the high table, and a gratifying number quaked as his eyes passed over each house of miscreants. Nothing had changed. It satisfied him.

He stirred his tea as Minerva delivered the welcome speech. The Sorting Hat recited its annual crime against prosody, then sorted an extra dozen students into Slytherin to balance the counts. Even this long after the War's end, when his house had nearly dwindled out of existence, machinations were necessary to preserve tradition. At least he was back now, to set things in proper order. He nodded to his prefects as they led two long lines of Slytherins to the dungeons.

When the last student had left the hall, Minerva pushed her chair back and rose. "Heads of House meeting now, shall we? Full faculty in the morning before breakfast." Grumbles followed in her wake, along with Snape and the other Heads. When it was done, Snape had a list of students to watch, dates to save, and Wizarding Wheezes against which to guard. The familiarity of routine reassured him. It had been years since he last sat guard here, but nothing changed at Hogwarts.

 

**OCTOBER**

Snape soon returned to his late-night habits. He rousted a pair of Hufflepuffs near the kitchens, flushed a brigade of seventh-years from the Astronomy Tower, and chaperoned a nauseated Ravenclaw to the infirmary. Satisfied with the evening's labor, he headed home.

"Oh, hullo," said Lupin, locking up the Transfigurations classroom. "How many did you get tonight?"

"Eleven. You're out late."

"Detentions," said Lupin. "Then I thought I'd finish the third-year Slytherin homework while I was already in a foul mood."

"Do not mention third-years, Lupin. Your benighted Gryffindors nearly melted my classroom today."

The two men walked the halls, arguing the relative inadequacies of Hogwarts thirteen-year-olds. Snape permitted Lupin to chastise the few students they encountered, his own detention schedule already full from his earlier prowling. 

At the Gryffindor stairs, they stopped. "Well, this is me," said Lupin. "Come up for a drink to celebrate your triumphant return to these halls?"

Snape considered. "Though your witty repartee has proved less annoying than usual, Lupin, it is late." He frowned. "We have another of Minerva's irritating early-morning meetings tomorrow."

Lupin grimaced. "So we do. Good night, then."

"The same to you," said Snape as he walked toward the dungeon stairs.

 

**NOVEMBER**

November Hogsmeade Saturday, and Snape was blessedly free from chaperone duty. He watched Granger and Sinistra shepherd the children down the path, thinking of the complex potions he could brew or the journals he could read.

"Do you think they're together?" Steps crunched on the courtyard gravel.

"Of whom are you speaking, Lupin?"

"Paola and Hermione." Lupin stood next to him, robeless, only a forest-green cardigan over his shirt despite the early November wind.

Snape thought about it. "It would explain a great deal." He raised an eyebrow. "Idle gossip is not normally your habit."

"No," agreed Lupin. "I suppose I'm still startled by happiness."

Snape watched the two witches grow smaller as they went down the path. "It would be foolish to expect it as commonplace." They stood quietly for a minute, letting the leaves and laughing children swirl around them.

"Do you have plans for the day?"

"I thought of brewing or reading."

Lupin nodded. "I'm going into Edinburgh this afternoon to hear a concert."

Snape chuckled. "Muggle popular music?"

"Bach, actually. Motets." Lupin turned to him. "Come with me, if you like."

"You startle me, Lupin," said Snape.

"Good," said Lupin. "I'll see you at two, then."

 

**DECEMBER**

To nobody's surprise but her own, Sybill Trelawney died in early December.

"Drink and heartache," said Minerva briskly. "Quite sad indeed." She looked at her agenda.

Hermione cleared her throat.

"Yes, of course. How absent-minded of me." Minerva gestured toward the back of the room. "Miss Lovegood has kindly agreed to take over poor Sybill's classes. Now - Yule Ball. I have a list of chaperone duties."

In the after-meeting muddle, Snape stood with Granger and Lupin near the door, poised to avoid Minerva and her damned sign-up list yet close enough to reach the biscuit tray.

"Luna! Come say hello," called Hermione.

Luna approached, nodding to each with a smile. "Hello, Hermione, Professors. Well, you're all professors, aren't you? So hello without qualification."

"You're a professor now as well," said Remus.

"True enough." Luna considered him for a moment. "Patience serves you well, Professor Lupin. I think it will bear fruit."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "My, Lupin. What are you hiding from us, for which you wait so patiently?"

Luna laughed softly. "Oh, it's not hidden, Professor Snape. Merely unspoken, possibly unnamed." She linked her arm through Hermione's, and the two walked away.

"Diviners," Snape scoffed.

"Indeed," said Lupin thoughtfully.

 

**JANUARY**

Snape's past had caught up with him once again. Over the holidays, he traveled to Poland in search of a rare grass that might improve the memory potion to which he'd devoted years of research. Dolohov tracked him within days, Apparating him to a small dacha outside Vladivostok.

The day before term began, Snape stumbled into his rooms, disheveled and bloody. Lupin looked up from his reading, quickly assessing the situation. Before Snape could think to inquire - _why are you here why are you in my chair why are you reading my books and drinking my whisky_ \- Lupin had him stripped, neck-deep in a hot bath, and opening his mouth obediently for pain potions.

"Last night was full moon," Snape said after a while, when the immediate agony had ebbed. "Ought you not to be asleep yourself?"

"Not a priority," said Lupin, gently healing the worst of the abrasions and the rough gash where Dolohov's signet ring had ripped Snape's cheek. "It's only sleep." His strong fingers dug into Snape's knotted deltoids, easing ancient hurts. 

Still later, Snape awoke in bed, in his green plaid nightshirt, tucked carefully beneath the quilt. A birthday card rested on the side table.

 

**FEBRUARY**

Long Scottish nights brought a chill to the castle's stone walls which could never quite be banished. Snape's evening patrols grew perfunctory, since even the most fractious students preferred their firelit common rooms in deep winter.

Once or twice a week, he ran across Lupin on his own prowls. In unspoken accord, they'd leave the students to Filch's mercy and retire for chess and conversation.

Snape made a trip to Honeydukes, figuring it was his duty as a good host to provide something his guest might like.

Lupin Apparated to the Isle of Mull for a visit with an old packmate who doubled as the maltster at the Tobermory distillery.

Snape stopped charting his detentions on the calendar once he realized that his Tuesday and Friday numbers were severely out of alignment with those of other evenings.

Lupin was pleasant to the oldest Flint girl when she mistakenly Transfigured her hair into feathers mid-lecture. She was so terrified by his kindness that Lupin had to take her to the infirmary.

Hermione and Paola had a dinner party, seating them together. Luna smiled unnervingly across the table. "No longer unnamed, I see." Lupin nudged Snape under the table. "Diviners," he muttered.

 

**MARCH**

Snape entered Lupin's classroom after the last students had straggled out. "You haven't time for this, Lupin. Go change your robes immediately."

Lupin looked at him questioningly. "Whatever are you on about, Severus? It's Wednesday. I'm grading. It hardly requires robes at all, let alone nicer ones than these."

Snape frowned. "It is your birthday."

"Yes," Lupin said, "it is. I plan to mark the occasion by getting thoroughly drunk in my own rooms and mourning the past." He shrugged. "Unless you've got a better idea."

Snape came to the front of the classroom and threw down a thin white envelope, then turned and strode out of the room. "I leave at four-thirty," he said over his shoulder.

After the dust swirls settled, Lupin opened the envelope: two tickets to a private concert by the London Bach Society, and a note confirming dinner reservations at St. John for six o'clock. He glanced at the clock and raced for his rooms.

At 4:29, he skidded into the castle entry. Snape waited, arms crossed. "I very nearly left without you."

Lupin smiled at him as they walked out, and slipped his hand into the crook of Snape's elbow. "I'm glad you didn't."

 

**APRIL**

They'd slept together twice by now, once after Lupin's birthday and once again a week later, just after the full moon. Snape had not intended sex when he went to check on Remus, only a return of the simple care Lupin had offered after the regrettable Dolohov incident. He'd tried to resist the languid stretches and soft moans resulting from his clumsy massage (how Lupin had become so skilled at touch, Snape did not wish to contemplate), but when Lupin pulled him down to the bed, Snape could not refuse.

The full moon approached again. Snape sat in his study reading. His wards chimed and Lupin slammed the door open, a feral gleam lighting his amber eyes as he stalked toward Snape's chair. Snape quirked an eyebrow and waited.

Lupin stopped on the hearthrug and looked down at him. He grinned, then bent and kissed Snape hungrily, his hands ripping the robes from Snape's thin shoulders.

"What are you doing, Lupin?" Snape struggled to control his voice, shaky from the unexpected dominance display. He didn't _want_ to want this, but his foolish body betrayed him.

"Come dance with the wolf, Severus," Lupin whispered, drawing him up and into the bedroom.

 

**MAY**

The level of stress had doubled at Hogwarts, as it always did near the end of the school year. Fifth- and seventh-year students were frantic with worry as OWLs and NEWTs approached, while everyone else desperately crammed for end-of-term examinations.

Faculty members were not immune from the pressure. Paola Sinistra had despaired of getting any information into the heads of her fifth-years, while Sprout mumbled imprecations toward the younger classes and their general dislike of dirt and things associated with it. Even Lupin gloomily predicted that his NEWT-level students would not perform to their abilities on their exams; Vane Parker, his brightest Ravenclaw, had inadvertently turned a teacup into a six-foot bullwhip rather than the stuffed snake he wanted during an lesson on the conversion of an empty object into a full one. Lupin nearly took his head off, then confiscated the whip.

Snape pushed all his classes to the breaking point. In his first year back at Hogwarts, especially after Minerva had put her own reputation on the line to bring him back, he saw his students' exam results as justification of his own abilities.

They had no time for each other, and barely time to regret that fact.

 

**JUNE**

The Leaving Feast had ended. The Hogwarts Express had pulled away. A small clutch of faculty gathered in the Three Broomsticks, drinking Rosmerta's hidden cache of Bordeaux that she only pulled out for Snape. 

Hermione raised her glass. "To another year," she said, "passed into history and out of mind."

Paola chuckled. "At least the year was relatively quiet. Minerva keeps control better than Albus, I think."

Under the table, Lupin put his hand on Snape's knee. Snape shifted imperceptibly closer, allowing their thighs to press together, laying his hand gently atop Lupin's.

Luna sat quietly, twirling her glass and watching the lamplight shimmer in the red liquid. She looked up at Paola and smiled. "Control isn't all it's thought to be."

Hermione looked at her, already a bit tipsy. "What's wrong with control?" She giggled as Paola pulled her close, whispering in her ear.

Luna looked serenely at Lupin and Snape, raising her glass to them. "Patience is the key, Hermione. Not control."

Much later, the two men lay tangled together, at rest. "Luna's right. Control is overrated."

"Spare me from diviners in my bed, Lupin," Snape said. He kissed Lupin slowly, flooding both their hearts with unexpected joy.


End file.
